


Ace of Diamonds

by wecara



Series: Ace Knights of the Round Table [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexuality, Bad Puns, Friendship, Gen, Movie Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16003880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wecara/pseuds/wecara
Summary: Movie night. AKA free beer and free therapy.Diamonds represent warmth, light, femininity. In the Tarot, they symbolize money, courage, and energy. Fortune-tellers associate diamonds with intelligence, savvy, wit, and spirit.The second work in a series surrounding asexual representation. Happy birthday Emma!





	Ace of Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Em_Bart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Bart/gifts).



> Part two! I have no real reason to make Ariadne ace other than the fact that Emma and I read a fanfiction where she thought Ariadne was ace and then was disappointed when she was not. So I decided to write it. There isn't much plot, just a lot of friendship funtimes.  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMMA!!

 

**** “Alright listen up bitch babies I’m gay and I have a problem,” Ariadne announces as she bursts through Dom’s front door, not bothering to knock. Dom, Mal, and Yusuf are all seated in the living room past the entry hallway, halting what Ariadne’s sure was a very heated discussion to look up at her as she marches loudly into the room. Arthur and Eames are sitting at the dining room table, hunched over a Monopoly board that’s littered with a thousand different hotel and house pieces. They were very clearly engrossed in their game before Ariadne made her entrance, but it can wait. 

“Welcome back, Ariadne,” Mal says with a smile, ignoring the short girl’s obvious distress. “We just ordered a pizza, I hope you like pineapple and ham.”

“That’s fine, but—” Ariadne is cut off by an enraged roar from Yusuf, who pounds his fist into the armrest of the couch beside him. 

“You all are  _ heathens, _ ” he growls emphatically, and Mal and Dom duck their heads to keep from laughing. “Pineapple and pizza are meant to be separate! It’s simply baffling to me that anyone once thought that would be a good idea!”

“Huh. You’d think that the Chem major would be more interested in funky food combinations. Isn’t mixing things that should  _ never be mixed  _ like, everyday life for you?” Arthur asks from the table, arranging his colorful slips of paper money into neat, precise stacks almost absentmindedly. Yusuf shakes his head gravely.

“Discovering new chemicals is one thing. Culinary genocide is another entirely.”

“Oh, stop being such a baby. I assure you, my struggle today was much worse,” Ariadne huffs, plopping herself down onto the comfy armchair facing the rest of the group. 

“Okay, fine, I’ll bite. What happened?” Dom says with a defeated sigh, and Ariadne immediately groans long and loud, drawing out the drama as much as she can. One of her friends mutters an ‘oh boy’ under their breath, but she ignores them. 

“Bailey broke my heart,” she moans, drooping lower over the armrest. She usually leaves the dramatics to Eames, but she thinks this situation warrants a bit more public mourning. 

“Wait, that girl from Architecture 202? I thought you guys barely spoke. When did you start dating?” Mal asks with a furrow in her neatly plucked brows, her accented voice feeling like silk against Ariadne’s ears. 

“Well, we didn’t. But she still broke my heart,” Ariadne admits with a pout. 

“Please, elaborate,” Yusuf says, and Ariadne doesn't miss the hint of sarcasm in his voice. She shoots him a hard glare before returning to her heartbroken melting.  

“Today we were talking and it was going great! We have a lot in common and things were starting to get serious, like,  _ we should grab a drink sometime  _ serious,” she explains, and Eames and Mal gasp excitedly as the two biggest romantics of the group. “But then, like a knife to the heart, she said the words I’ve been dreading ever since we met.”

“What words?” Dom prompts, now somewhat invested in the story. Ariadne scrunches her eyes shut tight, as if it pains her to even think about it. 

“‘I don’t like tea,’” she manages through gritted teeth. Eames lets out a shocked gasp. 

“No,” he whispers, sounding scandalized. 

“ _ I know, _ ” Ariadne laments. “I should’ve seen it coming after catching a glimpse at her pencil case. Only sadists with no room in their hearts for the warm, comforting embrace that leaf water brings would use dollar store spongebob pencils.” Arthur laughs at this, and Ariadne scowls. 

“But you use dollar store pencils, too,” he points out.

“Mine are different! They’re  _ velvet  _ and they  _ glow in the fucking dark,  _ Arthur. What reason would she have to use those nasty, peeling pencils whose graphite can barely make a mark unless they were glow-in-the-dark velvet?” Ariadne whines defensively, and Arthur shrugs.

“I gotta agree with Ariadne on this one,” Eames admits. “There’s no logical reason to dislike tea! It’s warm and flavorful and hydrating! That’s like saying you don’t like breathing.”

“I don’t like tea,” Arthur points out, and Eames waves his hand dismissively. 

“You’re a workaholic English major, darling. Non-humans don’t count.”

“What am I gonna do?!” the short girl laments, dragging her fingers through her soft brown hair. “My poor gay heart can’t take this!”

“You’re not gay,” Mal points out, “are you?”

“Well, asexual biromantic, but same thing.”

“It really isn’t,” Yusuf adds. Ariadne ignores him in favor of gazing imploringly at her friends, searching for an answer to her extremely valid dilemma. 

“Maybe there’s a deeper reason behind your aversion to coffee lovers,” Dom says, his eyes lighting up. Mal grins and nods excitedly, her chocolate brown curls bouncing.

“Yes, perhaps due to a negative childhood memory surrounding coffee, causing you to construct your memories of drink to be equally as negative—”

“Please don’t shrink me,” Ariadne groans, interrupting Mal before she and her boyfriend can go on yet another one of their endless psychological rants. Mal is double majoring in Fashion Design and Psychology, while Dom is majoring in Psychology with an emphasis on dreams and the subconscious. They’d met in their Psychology 101 class on the first day of freshman year, and had been completely smitten with each other since. The group knows from experience that if you don’t stop them early enough on their therapist tirades, they can go on for hours without stopping, bouncing ideas back and forth against each other until their victim is left questioning life, existence, and their own identity. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Arthur says unsympathetically, and Ariadne sticks her tongue out at him. 

“I guess I’ll just have to settle for being gay and alone for the rest of my life,” she cries, burying her face into her hands. 

“You’re not gay, Ariadne,” Yusuf says unhelpfully. 

“Shut up hets, you wouldn’t understand,” Ariadne snaps as the doorbell rings. Mal smiles delightedly and leaps up to get it, with Dom chasing after her with his hand on his wallet. No doubt they’ll argue about who will pay with ‘no, let me get it,’ ‘babe, stop, it’s no problem,’ ‘no, really, I insist,’ for far longer than is necessary, and Ariadne sends a silent prayer up to any diety that will listen asking them to spare the poor pizza guy from too much of their cheesiness. 

“What about it is there to not understand?! Gay means homosexual, last I checked, and you are not!” Yusuf tries to defend himself, but Arthur, Eames, and Ariadne shake their heads solemnly. 

“‘Gay’ can be used synonymously with ‘queer,’ at least in the queer community. Grammatically it is incorrect but culturally it’s perfectly acceptable. It’s sort of the same as how ‘awful’ used to mean ‘full of awe,’ usually used with reverent, positive connotations until culture warped it to mean something evil,” Arthur explains. 

“Cool! Now in English,” Dom says, returning to the living room with a warm pizza box in each hand. The pleasant, garlicky smell wafts through the air, causing Ariadne’s mouth to water.

“Dom, I study the English language for a fucking living. That was literally the most  _ English  _ English I could’ve given you.” Arthur says with a frown, and Dom laughs. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m just teasing. Who wants a beer?”

The night continues in similar fashion, Arthur and Eames announce the Monopoly game to be a draw after the two of them manipulated the board so expertly that the bank entirely ran out of money to give them. They tried for a while to come up with compromises with Eames using his knowledge in Business to offer Arthur trick deals and Arthur cleverly evading capture by talking circles around his opponent until the original motive was lost, which frankly terrified the other members of the party. Finally they shook hands, agreeing to be co-rulers of the Monopoly empire (and eventually the world, if the two geniuses so desired it). 

As evening grew further into night, comfortably buzzed, they turned on a shitty movie and set up a mess of blankets and pillows in front of the TV so no one was uncomfortable. Eames and Yusuf shouted unintelligible words of drunken exasperation whenever the main character made a stupid decision, gesturing aggressively towards the TV like middle aged men at a bar would during a football game. Arthur and Ariadne discussed outlandish theories for various twist endings that ended up being far more interesting than the actual end (the main character’s long lost brother was the bad guy all along). Dom and Mal were happy to just observe their friends and the movie, occasionally inserting opinions on the theories and groaning emphatically along with Eames and Yusuf whenever a particularly obvious bad choice was made. 

They watched one more action movie and a seventies horror flick before they started to drift off in the middle of  _ Jacob’s Ladder.  _ Then the TV was shut off and the group passed out in their little blanket nest, utterly exhausted from the day but content after movie night with their friends. 

~

Next week at movie night, Ariadne flies through the door with a blinding grin across her face. “What’s up, sluts? I’m gay and I’m a disaster. Someone find me a beer.”

“Ariadne, what a pleasant surprise,” Arthur greets, sounding unsurprised. “Eames and Yusuf just got out of class, they’ll be here in a couple minutes.” Ariadne drops down into her usual spot on the armchair, smiling pleasantly. 

“Oh, cool! How was everyone’s day?” She asks, accepting a beer from Dom. 

“Are you high?” Arthur asks suddenly. “It’s okay if you are, just wondering.”

“What makes you think that?!” Ariadne exclaims after popping the cap of the beer and taking a sip.

“Nothing, you just look a little blissed out. Normally you’ve got a creepy curious glint in your eyes, like you’ll never be satisfied until you know everything about everything. Now you just look relaxed, it’s a little disconcerting. Did you achieve nirvana at some point between last movie night and now?”

“No, stupid, I just had a good day is all,” Ariadne says, scowling at Arthur who holds up his hands defensively. 

“Oh, really? What happened to make it so good? I agree with Arthur, I’ve never really seen you this…  _ euphoric, _ ” Mal smiles kindly. Ariadne’s grin widens.

“I’m going on a date with Bailey on Saturday,” she admits, face flushing. Just then the door opens, and Eames walks in followed closely by Yusuf.

“Hello, friends. The party has arrived,” Eames announces, grinning crookedly. 

“Welcome, Eames, Yusuf. Ariadne was just telling us about her hot date on Saturday,” Dom hands the both of them a bottle, which they accept. Eames turns to Ariadne and smiles wickedly.

“Oh? And who might be the lucky guy or girl?” he asks, settling onto the couch next to Arthur. 

“Bailey from Arch 202,” Ariadne responds, just saying her name causing her cheeks to flush again. Eames’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Bailey? As in, Bailey the Blasphemer? Committer of Tea Treason? The Bailey Tea Party?  _ That  _ Bailey?” he asks incredulously, to which Ariadne rolls her eyes.

“Okay, I admit it. Her benighted intolerance for tea  _ is  _ a big issue,” Arthur scoffs, and Ariadne takes off one of her sandals to throw at him. 

“Hey, this shirt is expensive!” Arthur whines, tossing the shoe over to the entryway and inspecting his immaculate white button up carefully. Ariadne snickers.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, how is it fair to Ariadne’s crush that I don’t like pineapple on pizza, and it’s no big deal, but she doesn't like tea and suddenly it’s the end of the world?” Yusuf interrupts, folding his arms.

“Um, duh? Tea is more than just a condiment on a junk food. Tea is a  _ gift,  _ an ancient art! To disrespect tea is to disrespect the gods of old.” Eames explains.

“And Bailey isn’t my  _ crush,  _ I’m in college, not middle school.” Ariadne huffs.

“You all are a bunch of melodramatic lunatics,” Dom sighs, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “And the pink of your cheeks is telling us otherwise, Ariadne.” At this, the others nod solemnly and Ariadne squawks indignantly. 

“What made you change your mind?” Mal prompts, and Ariadne’s eyes light up once more. 

“Oh, Mal, you’re never gonna believe it,” she gushes, squeezing her cheeks with her hands and shaking her head as if she, too, is still reeling from whatever this ‘it’ is. “Bailey is ace too!”

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Mal’s voice is alight with excitement to match Ariadne’s. 

“No, I don’t think it is! I think we were like, drawn to each other.” Ariadne’s face scrunches up in concentration as she mentally runs over all her interactions with the girl, checking for random coincidences or instances that seemed too good to be true.

“What, like fate?” Dom asks.

“No, more like gaydar,” Arthur supplies. “They probably subconsciously picked up on their shared sexual orientation through social cues and were pulled together by intrigue and a desire for acceptance.”

“Hey, that’s neat! Although, would it still be called a gaydar for asexual people?” Yusuf wonders aloud. “What about, like, aceoscope? Asexualocation?” Ariadne wrinkles her nose.

“Keep trying,” she says. 

“Compace? Like a compass.”

“Ooh, I like that one.”

“Wait, tell us more about this date. I thought you were prepared to never speak to her again after last Thursday,” Dom presses. Ariadne kicks her legs absently.

“Well, I  _ was,  _ but then we split up into our smaller study groups to work on this paper about sustainability and Carlos was gonna go on a coffee run so he asked if anyone wanted any. I said, ‘I’ll take a medium iced passion fruit tea,’ and Carlos was like, ‘no coffee?’ and I winked and said ‘I like my coffee like I like my sex. I don’t.’ Then Bailey burst out laughing and said ‘how many asexuals does it take to screw in a light bulb? None, they’d rather leave the screwing to everyone else.’ And for the rest of the class we just made ace jokes and when I was packing up she asked for my number and now we’re going out Saturday!” The words tumbled from Ariadne’s lips of their own volition, and she was left out of breath once she was finished. Eames groaned.

“I can’t believe you flirted with her exclusively though puns,” he said, rubbing his temples.

“Oh, shut up. Your style of flirting is just shitty pickup lines,” Arthur scolds.

“It works, doesn't it? I don’t think I’ve ever failed to make you blush with those.”

“That was  _ one time  _ and I was  _ tired,  _ okay? I hadn’t slept in three days!”

“That’s perfectly understandable. Anyone would be tired after constantly running through my mind like that,” Eames replies smoothly, and to his extreme smugness Arthur’s cheeks and ears grow pink. 

“Be quiet,” he grumbles, punching Eames on the shoulder. The other man just laughs. 

“I mean, it’s better than Dom,” Mal points out, and Ariadne watches as the blood drains from the face of the man in question. 

“Mal, please,” he begs, but all of a sudden the whole room is intrigued.

“No, now you  _ have  _ to tell us,” Yusuf all but commands. Dom groans and rubs his face with both hands. 

“It was the first day of Psych 101,” Mal begins, and Dom groans again, rolling onto his back on the floor. Mal stifles a snicker before continuing, “and I was walking out of the building to get back to my dorm. Dom was waiting at the end of the hallway, all fidgety and nervous. It was very cute.”

“Kill me now,” Dom laments.

“As I passed him, he stuck his hand out and grabbed ahold of my backpack. I think it was supposed to be a very smooth, suave gesture, but I turned around too fast and the zipper was halfway undone so he ended up spilling my books and papers all across the floor. He helped me pick them all up, apologizing like he’d accidentally killed my dog.” Dom whines as Eames laughs heartily. 

“After about ten minutes of assuring him that it was fine, he offered to walk me back to my dorm. I accepted, and the whole walk back he kept fidgeting, like he was hyping himself up for something. Finally, at the door of my building, he sighed all big and said, ‘hey, you already know what I’m studying, which means that when I say that you’re the girl of my dreams, I know what I’m talking about.’”

“I KNEW IT! I  _ knew  _ he would use a dream pun, oh my god, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ariadne cries, laughter shaking her entire body. Dom glares murderously as the rest of his friends dissolve into giggles.

“I will hack into your subconsciousnesses and make you all forget how to eat if you don’t shut up,” he threatens, but they continue on laughing.

And so it repeated, they watched movies, complained about their days, got drunk, and ate takeout, and it was perfect. College life was hard, but their Thursday movie nights were perfect. Everything was good. 


End file.
